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Literature Text
we're taking them back -
the good things
we're cutting them from the leather
on the seats farthest back
in the school bus,
we're pressing them between water colours
of hummingbirds
and the pages of new sketchbooks
let's take it back,
the days we'll remember
let's dip strawberries in inkwells
like chocolate
and write stories with them -
of fluttering wings and
the laughter of fae between fingers,
pulling our hair with the wind
and unblinding us
with the lunar eclipse
these oil pastels carry the smell of spring
between their strokes,
done on the backs of paper snatched
from recycling bins
and giving the cryptic letters a whole new
meaning
this is ours, our music was too loud
for poetry
and we're going back there
to duck under our old desks
and laugh at the words we so carelessly
scrawled there -
that was our form of poetry
and we're taking it back,
from the torn front covers of journals
black scribed on red and
red scribed on black
i'm gathering up these things from those days
and sewing them to mend all the holes
in hand-me-down sweaters
so i can wear the good things
on my sleeve,
right next to
my heart -
right where
they belong.
the good things
we're cutting them from the leather
on the seats farthest back
in the school bus,
we're pressing them between water colours
of hummingbirds
and the pages of new sketchbooks
let's take it back,
the days we'll remember
let's dip strawberries in inkwells
like chocolate
and write stories with them -
of fluttering wings and
the laughter of fae between fingers,
pulling our hair with the wind
and unblinding us
with the lunar eclipse
these oil pastels carry the smell of spring
between their strokes,
done on the backs of paper snatched
from recycling bins
and giving the cryptic letters a whole new
meaning
this is ours, our music was too loud
for poetry
and we're going back there
to duck under our old desks
and laugh at the words we so carelessly
scrawled there -
that was our form of poetry
and we're taking it back,
from the torn front covers of journals
black scribed on red and
red scribed on black
i'm gathering up these things from those days
and sewing them to mend all the holes
in hand-me-down sweaters
so i can wear the good things
on my sleeve,
right next to
my heart -
right where
they belong.
© 2014 - 2024 Atomograd
Comments1
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Positively beautiful. The whole idea of keeping good memories close to the heart is fantastic.